


but you already know that.

by owlvsdove



Category: Quantico (TV)
Genre: 1x04, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5084779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None of this was supposed to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but you already know that.

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Strictly speaking, none of this was supposed to happen. Grand Central wasn’t supposed to be blown up and Alex isn’t supposed to be on the run and Shelby wasn’t supposed to see Alex again.

If God laughs at people making plans, then somehow God must be laughing right now, even in the face of tragedy.

The handcuffs are rubbing Shelby’s wrists in a way she hoped to never be familiar with. Her old line about tender loving care almost leaves her lips, but…

This isn’t quite the time for that.

Alex has gone silent, though, still holding Shelby’s legs down with the weight of her body, staring openly into Shelby’s eyes. And she looks hurt. More than anything else she looks disappointed and she looks hurt.

But Alex would never say that. Not in words exchanged between two human beings, just in every action, look, and touch. She wears desperation as well as everything else.

“Alex, I—”

Shelby’s almost glad she gets cut off. That sentence was drawn out of her mindlessly, instinctually; and the end of it would have been compromising.

But probably not more compromising than this.

Alex meets her lips with a kiss. Searing, and so stupid.

And it’s only when Shelby gasps for breath, completely intoxicated, that Alex pulls away.

Alex looks...rattled.

“Sorry,” comes out of her mouth on a short breath. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like months ago. It feels just like Quantico.

She’s still within reach, so Shelby, magnetized, leans in for more.

Alex is a drug. Shelby noticed it the second she laid eyes on the woman - the way the whole world seemed to cluster around her, planets orbiting the sun. She is beautiful, yes, and clever as hell, resourceful and forceful and always, always winning. It’s not that she doesn’t have her faults, but it’s hard to take stock of them when you’re looking into those eyes.

Alex pulls away suddenly and starts to fumble with the handcuffs.

“What are you doing?” Shelby asks tightly, terrified. Because if Alex does what she’s about to do, then there is no plausible deniability. There is just responsibility and duty. Things Shelby knows she’s ready to ignore.

“If I do this,” Alex says carefully. “And you take a shot at me, then I’ll know how you really feel.”

Shelby can’t bring herself to say anything else. She knows that if she and Alex fought now, Alex would win. She would get away and she would run forever. But she also knows somehow that she won’t fight Alex. Not in this moment. Not now.

Slowly, Alex releases the cuffs and they spring free. Shelby doesn’t ball her hands into fists. She doesn’t swing them hard.

Her hands reach for Alex as she dives further into this sea.

Drowning. She knows she’s stealing breath from Alex’s lungs. She doesn’t care. She needs it. She needs it so badly. Her arms are around Alex so tight, one hand gripping her shoulder and the other brushing her waist. Alex’s are already travelling down, down. Unfastening her slacks. Always straight to the point. Shelby lets out a strangled moan as Alex’s lips trail down her neck, biting, dutiful and unholy.

Alex makes work of removing their tops, unbuttoning her own jeans and shoving them off, tactless, before Shelby can even try.

A burst of something animalistic sends Alex’s back to the floor, and for a split second there’s fear in her eyes, like maybe Shelby is going to fight her. She ignores it. She straddles one strong leg, interlocking them. In a sick way, Shelby feels she’s owed something now. Some modicum of control in a dynamic that leaves her starved and wanting.

She tears Alex’s underwear. Probably the only pair she has.

Shelby doesn’t care.

Wetness on wetness, and this doesn’t have the deliberateness of making love, or even experimenting. It is raw chaos. Sure, Alex is pushing back because she’s Alex. But Shelby is a mess of need, of every single thing that’s happened in the last nine months bubbling to the surface. Perhaps if her hips moves faster or she grinds a little harder, she can erase the overwhelming shame in her head. Loving a fugitive. Loving her traitor. No longer a friend, but an enemy.

If there is a clear line between pleasure and pain, it’s gone slack, melting into a puddle in Shelby’s hands. They’ve opened each other up so their insides meet. This isn’t something they’ve done before. Special for this occasion. Inefficient. Inefficient on purpose.

They both want to draw this out.

She has a hand on Shelby’s hip and the other between them, facilitating. Alex’s whines are high and desperate, a needy, wordless complaint. Shelby does her honest best to be brutal.

And it works. Shudders like sobs wrack through Alex, and Shelby watches it happen from above, only a moment behind, growl ripping from her throat.

There’s a long wet smear on her original hardwood floor.

All at once exhaustion sets in; Shelby’s body stutters and collapses on the floor in a heap, like a young colt just born. Breathing hard, she doesn’t realize that Alex is staring again, sizing her up as though she didn’t just see everything Shelby has, everything she is.  It comes to her all at once, sound returning to her ears after a blast: she could make a run for it. She could climb right back on top of Alex and knock her out, grab her gun, call for help—

Shelby reaches for her panties.

And then her pants, her top. Out of the corner of her eye, Alex starts to move too, following for once in her life. Now Shelby sits back down on the floor.

“You better cuff me again,” she says, a strange, forgiving detachedness overtaking her voice. “Who knows what I might do.”

Alex can see it in her eyes, can’t she? Shelby’s under her thumb in more ways than one.

She holds her wrists back up to the bannister and lets Alex cuff her again.

Another secret she’ll take to the grave.

 

 


End file.
